Bakura Makes Pants Better

By Master Akira

Warnings: M for Language, Yaoi, Innuendo. Bakura probably needs a warning in himself. This is my first fanfic with out sex. Go figure.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura, Marik, Malik, Ryou, Duke Devlin, or leather pants.

Note: I wrote this in like ten minutes, during class (we were watching a moive I'd seen before, I don't normally slack off too much). I really love Bakura, and this is my first Yu-gi-oh fanfic, but I don't really care if they're in character. AU, I guess. Is this short enough to be considered a drabble? Hm...? Enjoy!

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"But Bakura~!" Malik's whine was almost unbearable.

"Shut up. Fetch me the scissors." Brown eyes flashed evilly.

"Noooo! That's my favorite!"

"Go. Or die. You choose." His smile was so creepy, Malik had no choice but to obey.

Sobs and sniffles accompanied the Egyptian as he fetched the items his friend's alter ego wanted. That god-damn-fucking-ring! His millennium item was so much cooler—and masculine. What kind of guy wears a huge gold eye-necklace? Only a gay Brit, that's who. "Here you go, you bastard." Damn, he really wanted his pants back.

"Perfect. I hate the ones with safeties. Metal ones rock." With a grin he started snipping, Malik cringing at each sound. Suddenly, evil turned sweet (but still Bakura, mind you, Ryou was hiding with the Friendship Gang—gag me, please) and he handed Malik the altered garment.

"Ugh, it's like you ruined it! Ahhhh!" He was fighting tears, it had been so pretty!

"Put it on."

"No."

"Yes." Bakura started to stand.

"Fine, fine, just stay where you are!" His voice had gone up an octave and he quickly shed his pants and put on the atrocity.

Marik walked into his kitchen just in time to see his other half bending over and dropping his pants, Bakura sitting near him, staring avidly at that tight behind. "Bakura, don't you dare touch him. It took weeks for those knife cuts to heal last time. He needed stitches and I was so bored for like a month." The larger Egyptian crossed his arms. That British fucker was almost too screwy to deal with sometimes. But he was still his best friend.

"Awww, Marik, you always ruin my fun. Your tan skin looks so nice stained with crimson." His tongue darted out from between pointed teeth to moisten his lips. His one true goal in life had been achieved—he scared Marik—one of the craziest people ever!

"Freaks." Malik finished re-pantsing himself, glaring at the other two.

"Oh my."

"Exactly, my rod-wielding friend, exactly."

Malik stood in front of them in what were once his favorite pair of pants—now they were leather cut-off shorts. Very short shorts. Super short shorts.

"Sexy." Marik was pleased, not that it was too hard to do.

"I know, right?" Bakura cackled. "I'm a fucking genius."

"Yea, but they'd be better on Duke Devlin."

"Everything's better on Duke Devlin. Especially me." Bakura smirked, tossing his white hair over his shoulder.

"Fuck you guys." Malik hated them so much.

"No, actually, I think we'll fuck you!" Marik laughed evilly, pointing his rod at the boy. This'll be fun. He wished Duke Devlin was there too. Next time, definitely next time.

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End Note: Please review if you liked this or found it funny, or horrific. Honestly, I want to know. I thought it was funny, but I've been told my sense of humor is slighly off kilter.